


Ignite

by starkilling



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blindfolds, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Painplay, Praise Kink, Subspace, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Wax Play, mix of afab and amab language, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27389755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkilling/pseuds/starkilling
Summary: Just like touches, each is like the initial.  The wax pricks at his skin and makes it throb and it’s a radiating, sultry feeling the further it spreads.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	Ignite

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for Bloom—A Trans!Sheith Zine Vol 2! Vol 1 was my first ever zine purchase and it was an absolute honor to be a part of the second volume. This project means the world to me and so does the creator, Al (cervine_salad). Thank you hun for being an amazing friend, a safety net, and my beta for this piece. I love you sosososo much and am so happy to call you my friend.

Before the silk blindfold is placed over his eyes Keith gets a good look at the room, dim from crimson candles that leave red tones sliding over each surface smoothly like stone. His violet eyes flick up to Shiro with a final glance, who is wearing a distinct anticipatory smirk, telling of what’s to come. It’s not an expression Keith sees often, but when he does he knows he’s going to be taken care of. Worked over, smoothed out until he’s pliant and flat. He looks like a physical form of velvet under the room’s glow, soft but firm. Unlike Keith’s scant lace panties being the only thing he’s wearing, Shiro opts to keep on black trousers, and for some reason it’s all the more sensual.    
  
Shiro leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the top of Keith’s hair as he secures the fabric over his face. After that--darkness and  _ only  _ darkness follows. 

There’s a few beats of silence, ones that seem all the louder with his sight stolen away. Keith focuses on his own breathing: the steady inhale, his chest expanding and the slow exhale that follows, shaky and labored with anticipation laced inside his lungs. Shiro has always taken great joy in making Keith wait because Keith winds himself up when he waits, becoming a rubber band ready to snap at the slightest touch. 

And when fingers finally trail along his sharp jawline and down the column of his neck, Keith’s breath catches on a sudden gasp. Like this, the rough calluses on Shiro’s fingers feel all the more defined, strong as they map out every sensitive inch of his skin. They leave a tingling sensation in their wake; the aftershocks of light touches that make him just as dizzy as hard smacks. Both take the same effect when he can’t see, and soon he feels like he’s beginning to float. 

Without being able to know what happens next, every graze is like the first. 

Shiro takes his time tracing over Keith, delving into every dip, curve, and protrude of bone and muscle. He doesn’t have to say anything for Keith to know that each of the feather-light caresses he leaves are subtle praises, every one a different compliment for his pliant body. When Shiro is able to explore as he pleases, that’s when Keith finds he enjoys himself the most. 

Finally, the hand retreats. Footsteps vibrate in the hardwood floor as Shiro steps away, then returns shortly after. “Gonna work you over good tonight, sunshine,” he murmurs, voice low and deep as he does so. Keith can hear every rumble in his chest as he speaks to Keith with nothing short of adoration, guiding him into the present and bringing him to awareness. “Just let go for me, baby. I’ve got you.” And he says it so simply because Keith always knows that Shiro  _ does  _ have him, body and mind. 

There’s a flick and a hiss as a lighter is ignited, fire roaring to life. Shortly after Keith hears a barely there crackle—wicks sizzling as they’re lit. The flames flutter and sputter, and just by listening Keith can tell that Shiro lights a second candle adjacent to the first. The lighter is set on a surface nearby, and all he can hear is soft breathing and the quiet roar of flames. 

The bed creaks—Shiro is sitting on the edge of it. The candles are set down next to him. A hand curls over Keith’s left shoulder and pulls gently, a quiet hum rolling through Shiro’s through. “Scoot backwards a bit sunshine, back against the bed for me.” Keith immediately listens, pushing himself until he feels his spine brush against the plush comforter. Shiro’s knees have him caged in on either side, his hands resting on them. Once Keith is where he needs to be, Shiro reaches down and grasps both of Keith’s hands, pulling them up.    
  
“Rest them on my forearms, and keep them there.” Keith secures his palms as directed, and like this his back is arched slightly forward, baring his chest. From the cool air in the room his nipples are pert and standing, flushed and hard. Shiro’s hands move just slightly to grab the candles next to him with his hands, and then there’s a beat.    
  
“Ready for me, baby boy?”   
  
It takes a moment for Keith to register the question but he swallows down a breath and nods slowly, leaning further into Shiro’s hold. Shiro makes a noise of assent and shifts his weight a little. Keith’s head tips back, chin tilted up towards Shiro’s, lips dropped open around inaudible breaths. 

Keith expects the sting of hot wax when it comes, but for some reason he jolts violently just the same. Shiro is sure to shush him as the heat spreads from the impact point and down his chest when it slides lower, drying as it goes. Blindfolded, he’s never able to expect the next pour. Just like touches, each is like the initial. The wax pricks at his skin and makes it throb and it’s a radiating, sultry feeling the further it spreads.   
  
His most sensitive spots are right along his nipples and, beneath that, his surgery scars where the wax feels like liquid flames, licking along his skin in heavy stripes that leave him dizzy and breathless. It’s then that he makes his first noise since the session began, whimpering quietly at his delicate skin being stimulated. Shiro’s arms shift, lowering. He pours the wax closer to his chest this time, and without the air to cool, it feels  _ scorching _ . This pulls a gasp straight out of him and he strains, whole body shaking while the temperature expands. 

It’s the anticipation that makes him tense up and respond, not the burn. Like this, it’s all amplified. Contact alone is enough to make him flinch and choke on a breath, the fever that follows is just an added bonus. It’s abundantly clear that it all affects him the same way because just beneath him on the floor, he’s dripping and wet and hardly able to keep himself from reaching for some sort of satisfaction.

“You’re doing so fucking good for me Keith,” Shiro whispers into the silence, and his voice is louder like this without being able to see him. It cuts into his headspace and he can do nothing but glow under the praise, tilting his chin up responsively to soak it in. “So good for me. You’re a dream.” 

It  _ feels  _ like a dream. His trust in Shiro runs so deep into his core that this is second nature to him, handing over his autonomy to allow Shiro to do as he pleases. Shiro knows what Keith needs, knows what his limits are and what he can take. He practices the most careful precision in dripping the wax over his scars, down his navel, letting the red stain the sparse hairs just before his glistening folds. Keith exposes every bit of himself willingly like this. He lets Shiro see his most vulnerable state, a space where he’s vacant and yielding and pliant.

Minutes begin to blur into one after another. Somewhere along the lines Keith is helped to turn around, pressing his cheek to the inside of Shiro’s thigh. More wax dribbles down his shoulder blades and traces his spine, hot streaks that leave him floating on clouds. The burn has long since come to an end. He vaguely registers that there’s a prickle, but the rest feels like a blanket of warmth. It’s too easy to drift like this, letting Shiro admire his own work and add to it as he sees fit. If he weren’t throbbing with need, he’d be able to teeter on the edge of dozing off. 

But he doesn’t, instead perking up when glass is set down next to him and hands move up to where his blindfold is tied above his head. 

“ _ Stars _ , Keith, you look so beautiful like this,” Shiro praises, kissing the top of his head. His chest rumbles in approval and Keith is practically purring at the attention, finally reaching up to feel around for his husband. “Give me one second, baby. Gonna let you see me.” And the silk falls away. 

Keith blinks as his vision comes back into focus but with the veil of pleasure, it’s still blurry. Shiro pulls him up into his lap, back facing him, and peppers kisses along the column of his neck with his arms wrapped around Keith’s waist. With each kiss comes whispers of adoration, words that commend Keith for how well he’s done. He all but whimpers at each of them, feeling like he could drown in the compliments. They make him feel  _ good,  _ feel  _ wanted _ , feel  _ worthy _ . 

Gently, Shiro’s prosthetic hand sneaks its way down between Keith’s thighs, toying at his folds. It brings Keith immediately to awareness and he jumps, breath catching in his throat. Shiro is careful as he massages up and down at the flushed skin, thumb circling over Keith’s swollen cock. It’s an instant cocktail of pleasure that makes Keith dizzy, careening towards a release that he has no idea he’s been painfully patient for. 

“That’s it, sunbeam, you can let go. I know you’ll love it.” Teeth scrape along his neck until Shiro finds a place he sees fit for a deep love bite. “Come for me, Keith.”   
  
It only takes a few more strokes over his dick and he’s whining low and long, body trembling through an orgasm that submerges him in thick, heady smoke. It’s not the type that makes him lose his sight or make a mess, it’s one that leaves him numb and boneless and  _ sated _ . He feels weightless and heavy all the same, pulsing and panting through the intense ecstasy that diffuses through his bones. 

When he finally comes around he’s under blankets, wrapped in arms that hold him so tight that it’s impossible to get any closer. Lips trail along his hairline and he hums, lashes heavy and fanning dark over his cheeks as his eyelids flutter. “Love you,” Keith whispers, and his voice is hoarse and under-used but it’s a familiar scratch he welcomes. 

“I love you  _ most,  _ baby,” Shiro answers, lacing their fingers together where they meet at the front of Keith’s waist. “More than you’ll ever know.” 

And he repeats that sentiment over and over, not stopping, even when Keith’s breathing has evened out into quiet little puffs while he flows gently in slumber. 

**Author's Note:**

> come yell @ me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/starkillling). <3


End file.
